


Outrun

by Ill_Ratte



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Outlast (Video Games), Outlast: Whistleblower - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Forced Feminization, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of piss but no actual piss, Misgendering, SO SORRY, Trans Gavin Reed, Transphobia, unwanted kissing, unwanted touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-11-02 09:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20706140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ill_Ratte/pseuds/Ill_Ratte
Summary: Poor Gavin Park doesn’t know what he’s in for when he falls into “Nines” Gluskins clutches





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know Outlast very well but it really is a playground for all of my fucked up kinks

The only sound Gavin could hear was his own breath, shuddering in and out of his lungs. The two men, who had been talking about god knows what (The groom, a bride, a fucking goat), were gone now. It was maybe a blessing that they wouldn’t come down here. 

Like the other halls, the rooms and corridors were cold and damp. Cold enough for Gavin to curse the fucking paper-thin jumpsuit, among other things. Although, he enjoyed the quiet. Relative at least, much better than the grunts and groans of the prisoners, and the hostile glares from the people outside. 

Gavin hadn’t known what to expect when he signed on to work as part of Cyberlife’s cyber security. The usual dissatisfaction found in any place where people had been committed, maybe. While Cyberlife was a tech company, they had been developing body modifications. All meant to help people, they had claimed; a revolution in both physical and mental health science. 

It had only taken Gavin two weeks before he blew the cover on their operation. What Cyberlife hasn’t told the public, had in fact kept under lock in key in the remote asylum at Mount Massive, was just how badly of an effect Cyberlife implants had on their hosts. And how these hosts, men too poor to afford anything besides dying and decaying in the streets, were less than test rats in the eyes of Cyberlife. 

When he had leaked information to the press, he had been committed himself for “troubling behavior”. Almost been stuffed full of Cyberlife implants as well. The riot in the prison was the only blessing he had received, if he could even call it that. Enough time for him to slip away from this hell on earth. Or so he thought. Getting out hadn’t proved as easy as getting in. 

His feet ached from running, and he allowed himself to slow, opting for a careful creep instead of the mad sprint he had used earlier. Footsteps seemed to seep into the dull silence of the rooms, more like catacombs than a floor. 

He would have called it peaceful. As peaceful as it was going to get, after being locked up. After everything he had seen. 

But as he made his way past a vent, he became aware of a shuffling, rattling noise. Someone was inside of it. 

Gavin whipped around, camera clutched tight in his hand like it was any use as a weapon. 

He switched it on, the flash of eyes the only thing he needed to tell him to run. 

Taking the stairs two at a time, he winced at the sound he made. The next floor was dingy and damp. But there was a light, soft and warm, unlike the harsh green and black of his camera. 

He stepped forward, and immediately had to resist the urge to regurgitate what little he had eaten. 

It could only be described as rebirth. 

Someone who had once been a man (because Cyberlife only admitted men into the facility) lay with his legs splayed on a gurney, decapitated. His chest was filled with something to make it resemble breasts, and a doctor stood besides him, cradling his head near his groin. 

Flies littered the corpse, and it was obvious it had been there for some time. 

He could go back, and face the two men from before. Or he could go forward. Whatever “The Groom” was, there only seemed to be one of him. 

The next scenes weren’t as jarring as the rebirth. They would have been oddly heartwarming, even, if they weren’t written in blood. 

“There’s no place like home!” Above a pile of broken chairs. 

He crept onwards, scoping out how each of the halls branched off from the one he was in. Another light, this time with another sappy phrase along with what Gavin hoped was a mannequin wearing a white dress. He didn’t want to push onwards, but it seemed the only way out was down. He didn’t want to face the men upstairs, either, or whatever rattled in the vents. 

Past the dress, more light pooled. He stepped carefully, fighting the urge to hyperventilate as he picked his way over the broken debris on the floor. As a white curtain appeared in his eyesight, Gavin realized he heard music. A voice, more melodic than any Gavin had heard, at least in the asylum, filtered out into the air. 

“When I was a boy, my mother said to me… Get married, and see how happy you will be!” 

Old timey, maybe, but not unpleasant. If he had been in any other situation, Gavin might have enjoyed the music. But he was here, and it set him on edge. 

There was another door just beyond. Perhaps the man would stay occupied with his singing, if Gavin was quiet enough. 

He crept forward, keeping as low as he could. Sometimes, his short stature actually helped him. 

The singing man hunched over a table, sewing at some garment. He was tall, from what Gavin could tell, with slicked-back hair and a good-natured grin. He would have been handsome, if the entirety of his visible face hadn’t been covered in oozing scabs. That, and the long-white scar that peaked out from where the side of the man’s head had been shaved. 

Gavin edged forwards. If he made it to the door, he could stand up again, and quiet the screaming in his knees. The thought kept him going until he was across. 

It wasn’t until he stood, breath panting out of him just a little harder than normal, that he realized the music had stopped. 

Freezing, even if it was minute, was his first mistake, but it would have been rectified if he had just bolted. Instead, he cinched his fate by looking back. The man grinned down at him, cracked face split wide in a smile. Up close, he could see his left eye had been replaced with some sort of cybernetic, the tell-tale all-encompassing iris trained straight on him. “Hello, Darling! I’ve finally found you!” 

As Gavin took a step back, he noted with some confusion what the man wore. There was no doubt in Gavin’s mind that he was a patient, but instead of the jumper that Gavin wore, he wore clothes more suited to the 50s, patched together from what Gavin could only guess. 

He didn’t think he could turn quick enough to run, but even though the man before him was big, he figured he could run back past him. Gavin was quick, and it would surprise even the strongest person for him to run straight on. 

The man tilted his head, cracked lips forming a question as Gavin barreled forwards, aiming just to the left of him. 

He tried to squirm past, but something cold and strong slammed into his middle, dropping him to the floor. 

“Now now, Darling, are you playing games with me already? Toying with my heart like a little- a little-“ his voice shifted to sickly sweetness even as he pressed Gavin into the floor. “I think I’ll forgive you, since you’re just being shy. You came all this way to see me, after all. Finally reaching me must be so overwhelming. Although, I think I’ll have to give you something to calm down. We can’t risk you getting hurt, now can we?”

Gavin was jerked onto his side, and even as he struggled to scramble up, green gas from a canister spluttered onto his face. 

————————————————

Gavin woke in hell. Bloodstained, rotting hell. A hand was in his hair, stroking it as the same tune from before rang out. All he could smell was blood and bile and other things he didn’t want to think about. 

“You’ve got a very pretty face, you know. Good structure, and a very healthy figure.” The man said it kindly, pinching his cheek as he stared down at him. “Once we remove your vulgarities, you’ll be the prettiest little wife a man could ever hope for.” 

Gavin’s eyes flickered down, to where a buzz saw glinted cruelty between his legs, and fought the urge to wretch. While he didn’t have the equipment to warrant what he thought the man was planning, it was obvious from the blood splatter that he wasn’t the man’s first attempt. Gavin struggled, trying to scream even while still whilst from the drugs. 

“Now now, this will only hurt more if you struggle like that.” A pale, spidery hand reached for his chest, working at the zipper. Gavin thrashed harder as it was yanked downwards. He had never opted for top surgery, and while the fabric of the jump suit did well enough to hide that his chest wasn’t just particularly well-built, with the barrier gone, it was achingly obvious that he had breasts. 

A soft gasp left the man, his hand cupping his left breast, thumb ghosting over the nipple in a manner that could only be labeled as reverent. Gavin shuddered. 

The hands were almost hungry as they pulled off the rest of the jumpsuit, hopeful and worshipping as they examined every inch of Gavin’s body. Gavin writhed, the intermittent apologies for “defiling his maiden hood” doing little to help. 

Cold fingers spread his cunt lips, the man’s voice nothing short of wonder as he examined him. “You… You can get pregnant, can’t you? My little wifey came with a womb attached?” 

He didn’t know what to answer, so he nodded. 

A delighted laugh left the man’s mouth, and before Gavin could react, he was scooped into surprisingly strong arms, one flesh and one cybernetic, heated and chapped lips pressing into his. He tasted blood from one of the sores. “It seems nothing short of fate has brought the perfect wifey to me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this has a second chapter lol. I just forgot to hit the multichapter button. 
> 
> Check me out @illratte on tumblr

The next thing Gavin woke to was hands. Bedraggled, cracked hands, petting his hair like he was some sort of dog. He didn’t remember where he was, imagined it was someone else playing with his hair. Brief thoughts flickered to his ex-wife, but that was years ago. 

He cracked an eye open. He was pressed into someone’s chest, someone larger than him. Scars, like he had been split open and sewn back together countless times, tracked his body, and angry, oozing red flesh melded with the strange, glimmering material that Cyberlife used for cybernetics. 

It came back to him in flashes. The man, the bloody table, how horrible and wrong his hands felt on him as he was caressed. 

The hand drifted to cup his cheek, forcing him to look up. “Good morning, Darling. There’s no need to play the wallflower when you’re with me.” His blue eyes glittered even in the gloom, the cybernetic one pulsing intermittently. 

“Wh-Who are you?” His voice cracked as it left him, painful to his own ears. He didn’t want to upset the thing, but the question still raced at the back of his mind. While most patients had received “upgrades”, part and parcel for Cyberlife’s special program, the man before him seemed especially worked over. 

He frowned. “Who am I? Darling, you’ve come all this way to find me, don’t tell me you don’t know.” 

Bad question. Gavin searched for a way to rectify the situation, until the man smiled. 

“Unless… it was fate, wasn’t it, that brought you here? The red string guiding my darling to me…” His grip on him tightened, the smile growing especially pleased. 

“Something like that.” Gavin grunted, looking back down at the man’s chest. He couldn’t bear to stare into the pulsing eye for too long. 

“It all makes such sense now, doesn’t it?” He crooned. “And you may call me Nines. Now what is your name?”

“Gavin.” He didn’t like how the man’s, Nines’, hand curled around his back, so possessive and stifling. Like he was crushing him. 

“That’s a unique one.” He hummed. “And I do apologize for undressing and redressing you; while I hate to soil your dignity in such a manner, I couldn’t have my wife catching cold in those nasty clothes.”

“It’s… Fine.” He hadn’t been particularly aware until Nines said it, but he had been dressed in some sort of nightgown, the floral pattern marking it as made from the curtains. 

Nines liked the answer, paltry as it was, placing a wet kiss on his cheek. “I knew you’d understand, Darling.” 

Gavin only shuddered a little. “Of course, of course. That’s what husbands do, right?”

For a moment, Nines’ eyes crinkled. Then he laughed. “Husbands? Quite the tomboy, are you? Nothing that our wedding night won’t fix.” 

Gavin winced. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard it before, but hearing it from someone with so much power over him made him shudder. “Something like that.” He mumbled. “And what do you mean by wedding?” 

That made Nines laugh. “Marriage, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to soil your virginity by making you copulate with me before marriage; it’s unbecoming of as delicate a flower as you.” 

“But we don’t… know each other.” 

“Don’t we? Even your tender heart couldn’t resist my pull. You must have travelled what, countless miles just to find me here?”

“I suppose so.”

“And I was waiting here for you all that time. For my beautiful bride.” He grabbed Gavin’s hand then, stroking the palm before placing a kiss on it. “And I must apologize, again, for holding you while I am so indecently dressed.” 

Gavin looked down, a sick something crawling in his stomach as he realized Nines was only in ratty, greyed boxers. One of his legs was half-cybernetic, flesh meeting alloy in angry red, and the other was unscathed. He supposed the tone of his body, taught and tight, could have been called handsome, but the thought of applying it to the man before him made him want to retch. 

“But I would have hated for you to have to wake up all alone here. I can tell this place hasn’t been kind to you.” His hands were on him again, too cold and hot all at once, and Gavin’s heart went thud thud thud as he tried not to struggle away. They rubbed the scrapes on his leg, tender and gentle and painful as they fussed over him. Gavin wanted to scream. 

“But you’re with me now, my sweetheart, my little bird. As long as you’re with me, I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

If he could just resist, just until Nines let his guard down, he could escape. 

——————————————————

He didn’t know when he first became aware of the noise. Nines had set him down besides him, in a wingbacked chair he had pilfered from some godforsaken corner of the asylum, as Nines worked on his “special project”. It was a wedding dress, of course, and while it had already been fashioned, Nines had hummed that it needed certain alterations to “accommodate his figure”. 

But as Gavin waited in the chair, eyes idly searching for an exit, he became aware of a low scraping, just perceptible above Nines’ singing. It was coming from the outside hallway. 

He hadn’t seen much of Nines’ “home”, just a dingy bathroom area where he had been bathed, and a “kitchen”. Certain rooms, though only implicitly, were “off limits”. Nines hardly left him alone enough to formulate a plan of escape. 

Still, maybe the noise was a clue to a way out. 

“I uh, need to piss.” 

The music stopped right along with Nines’ sewing. “You What?” The sickly sweet smile, strained enough that Gavin thought Nines’ scabs would crack, told him that just maybe he should have worded things a bit more delicately. 

“I meant… whiz. In the bathroom.” 

A sigh was his answer, before Nines started to stand. For a second Gavin watched in revulsion as he attempted to unfold his long legs. “May I please go by myself?” 

“Why?”

“It’s- it’s inappropriate for you to watch.” 

Nines’ face softened. “I’ll be standing outside the whole time, alright?” 

“N-no! You’ll still be able to hear!” Dark red colored Gavin’s face as he said it. Perhaps he was too in character. 

“Fine. You have six minutes before I come fetch you.”

Gavin nodded, before scurrying off. 

The vent was still when he reached it, and Gavin felt silly. He must have been imagining the noise, maybe, either from hope or fear. And maybe foolishness had drove him here, because Nines could find him “straying” and rage, or maybe something even more horrific laid in wait in the vent. 

Still, Gavin whispered “Hello?” Into the air. Half a minute passed with no answer, long enough for Gavin to consider leaving and rushing back to Nines. Until something fluttered in the air. He grabbed for it, looking up quick enough to catch a flash of brown and white. 

It was a note, scrawled hastily in dribbling ink. “Meet me here while he sleeps.” 

——————————————————

In retrospect, as Gavin hugged himself, the flimsy blue nightgown doing little to help with the chill that seemed to pervade the asylum, he should have considered more how dangerous the notegiver could truly be. He only had his camera, rested from Nines’ night table, as a leg up. If the person he was meeting wasn’t another crazed psycopath, he’d have to find a way to delete the footage. 

“Hello?” Gavin called as he approached the vent. He stayed a good few feet back, at least. Enough of a head start, hopefully. 

“Fucking finally. I thought you weren’t going to show up.” Legs poked out, then arms and a head. To Gavin’s surprise, the kid looked almost normal. And kid was the right description, from what Gavin caught in his camera. He was somewhere in his twenties, young except for the exhaustion that shone clearly in his eyes even through sickly green light. 

“How long have you been in there?” The thought that he had been in there since he had sent the note made Gavin wince. 

“A few hours, give or take.” 

“Why?” The thought that it could still all be a trap raced through Gavin. Even if the kid seemed sane enough, if a bit bedraggled and bloodstained. 

“Look. Your pal there is sitting on the only way out of this place.” 

“And what the fuck do you want me to do about it?” He had thought about killing Nines. Maybe smashing his camera into the back of his skull, watching grey matter pour out of it onto the pillows he so peacefully slept on. But he couldn’t be sure what Cyberlife had done to him, how the upgrades they had put in his head would react. He couldn’t even be sure that he could kill him. “And he’s not my fucking friend.” 

The kid rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Don’t get bitchy with me, ok? And…” as if remembering he wanted something from Gavin, he cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry that you’re in this… situation. But we both need to help each other.”

“And how can you help me?”

“Well, I know this place pretty well now, and two people are a hell of a lot safer than one out here. Once you get me the key, we can have each other’s backs while we escape.” 

“And why can’t you get it yourself?” It wasn’t that Gavin wanted to be left behind, but it wouldn’t be hard for him to find the key with Nines occupied with Gavin. 

The kid laughed bitterly. “Trust me, if that bastard catches wind that I’m here, nothing will stop him from trying to kill me.” 

“Who even are you?”

“You can call me Connor. Connor Upshur. And you are?” 

“Gavin.” 

Connor’s mouth opened in question, before he shut it tight. “You should get back; He’s probably noticed you’re missing by now. Meet me here again tomorrow.” 

Before Gavin could stop him, to question him on why he was so certain Nines would despise him, or on how he seemed so familiar, he was gone. Only empty blackness stared back.


End file.
